


Emerald Requiem

by TheKittyDeity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood As Lube, Breeding Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Tom Riddle, Forced Pregnancy, Heavy Angst, Inspired by The Handmaid’s Tale, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Mpreg, Older Man/Younger Man, Omega Harry Potter, Omega Verse, POV Alternating, Physical Abuse, Possessive Tom Riddle, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scenting, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKittyDeity/pseuds/TheKittyDeity
Summary: When Wizarding Britain’s magical pregnancies begin to become almost non-existent, a breeding law is put into place. All Omegas of childbearing years will be assigned to an Alpha in attempt to conceive.Sixteen-year-old Omega, Harry Potter, is kidnapped and given to Wizarding Britain’s tyrannical leader, Tom Riddle, as a broodmare. Entirely innocent of all things dark, he is quickly introduced to a world of magic, cruelty, and pain.Tom Riddle, Alpha and Minister of Magic, takes on an Omega in an attempt further his bloodline. The little Omega he’s obtained surprises him with his stubborn resilience...And his refusal tobreak.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 46
Kudos: 296





	1. Requiem for Freedom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarklingDarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarklingDarling/gifts).



> HEY, Y’ALL. I’m back with another angst-ridden, A/B/O, forced pregnancy fic. 🤠
> 
> Please mind my tags before reading on. This fic will include: **rape, forced pregnancy, and different types of abuse**. I will add tags as I write. 
> 
> This is an AU where Tom and Harry have never met and Harry has never been to Hogwarts. This fic is inspired by The Handmaid’s Tale and will be borrowing certain elements of that story.
> 
> Enjoy and let me know if you want more! 🖤
> 
> For my Darkling 🖤 Dark minds think alike.

“The boy was brought in just before you arrived back home. He’s still unconscious.”

Tom Riddle, Minister of Magic, tilted his head. He was in the study of his home, Riddle Manor. He’d only arrived moments ago after being in Romania for business.

One of his Death Eaters, Antonin Dolohov, stood in front of his desk. His Death Eaters were a group chosen specifically by Tom himself. They attended to certain matters Tom wanted dealt with fast and efficiently.

As Minister of Magic, he didn’t have much free time to gallivant about, dealing with loose ends that required a firm hand. If he needed someone found, taken, or killed, he called upon one of his trusted Death Eaters. 

Tom stubbed out his lit cigarette in the ash tray on his desk. It had been a gift from the French Minister of Magic. Fashioned from dragon bone, it was impervious to fire.

The gift was an obvious attempt at trying to appeal to his good graces, but he knew fear was the true underlying reason.

Their motto was ‘ _Cast, Bewitched, Conjured_.’

But to Tom, it was more like, ‘ _Cower, Prostrate, Kowtow_.’

The French Minister was afraid of Tom.

Most of the Wizarding World was.

He had built his reputation on fear and bloodshed was the backbone of the magical empire he’d erected.

Tom wasn’t afraid of insurrection. If anyone opposed his judgements or laws, he dealt with them by making them an example of what would happen to any who would dare try to stand against him.

He had recently enacted a breeding law for Wizarding Britain. For reasons unbeknownst to him, magical pregnancies were becoming less and less. Omegas were already rare, so he had put into place a law that would ensure that their kind would not go extinct.

All Omega witches and wizards of childbearing age would be assigned to a magical household with a suitable Alpha in order to breed. 

Tom included.

He had no heirs and his wife, Bellatrix, was a Beta. Though he tolerated Bellatrix as one would a loyal dog, she could bear him no children and he had no interest in copulating with the mad witch. The only purpose she served to him was as a pawn that drew him closer to his end game.

Everyone in Tom’s life was a pawn to him. He loved no one and human sentimentality was of no use to him. His upbringing had shaped him into the man he was today:

A cold, ruthless leader who wanted absolute loyalty from his subjects. No matter the price.

Love was something that could be used against someone. Love was a weakness that Tom used over those who _had_ something to lose.

It was easy to twist those to his will. All he had to do was threaten someone’s family, friends, or lover. 

No.

Love was something Tom scoffed at. Foolish people with foolish ideals, those who loved.

And he reaped the benefits of their weakness.

”Thank you, Antonin. Was he much trouble to you on the journey here?”

Antonin sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No. Tried to throw a few punches, the little runt, but he was easy to overpower. Ran off as soon as I Apparated him here. Took off in a sprint towards the forest, but I was able to catch him easily. Has no knowledge of how to control his magic. The Muggles he was raised by forbade him to ever use or talk about his magic. Like an oblivious lamb, that one.”

Tom arched a brow, leaning back in his chair. “You collared him, I presume?”

Antonin nodded, his greasy dark hair shining under the enchanted wall sconces in his study.

”Made him docile enough to be transported. Had to knock him out with a spell. He wouldn’t stop thrashing.”

”And the rest of the Omegas you acquired?”

”Sent off to different households. As you ordered, the Ministry officials had their first picks. Thought this one would appeal to you most. He’s a half-blood. His mother was muggle-born and his father pure, according to the Muggles he’d been staying with. Gave him up without a peep. Seemed they were glad to be rid of him.”

”And his parents?”

”Died shortly after he was born. No one will come looking for him and even if they did, they wouldn’t even try once they knew who his new master is.”

”How had they been hiding him?” 

Antonin shrugged. “His magic is rudimentary, so repressed it’s hardly even viable at this point. Suppose it was easy to for him to fit in as a Muggle if he had no idea of our kind. Word had spread through their town about him. A boy who exhibited odd behavior. Thought it would be worth looking into, and it was.”

Tom nodded thoughtfully, staring at Antonin in silence for a moment.

Though he would have preferred a pure-blooded Omega, he couldn’t be picky. They were rare to come by and a half-blood would suffice for his intended purposes.

”That will be all, Antonin. Deal with the Malfoys this week. Lucius has been avoiding my summons and it’s becoming irksome to me. Don’t make me handle it myself.”

Antonin nodded solemnly and left Tom’s study, his dark coat fluttering around his knees.

Tom stood, straightening the lapels of his dark suit jacket. 

It was time to meet his Omega.

**XXX**

Tom’s house-elves had prepared a room for his new pet. It was in the bowels of the manor, sealed off from the rest of the world. Until Tom could get him pregnant, that was where his Omega would remain.

He used a signature of his magic to unlock the reinforced door, whispering something in parseltongue. With a soft click, the door swung open.   
  
A scent so sweet it bordered on sickly, coated the small room. It assaulted Tom’s nostrils, calling forth all of his Alpha instincts. It was a scent he hadn’t smelled in quite some time.

The scent of a ripe Omega on the cusp of a fresh heat. 

The room was absent of any windows. The house-elves had put a small mattress on the black-tiled floor. A toilet and sink had been added as well.

Until Tom could bind the boy to him irrevocably, he would deprive him of any luxuries. Only the bare minimum would be awarded to him for now.

The boy could try to use anything as a weapon and Tom didn’t feel like trifling with the messy aftermath of an unfair fight between himself and the young, untrained wizard before him.

His pet was laying on the mattress, his back to him.

He was small, dressed in the designated robes required for all breeding Omegas to wear in public by his order, marking them as fertile _property_. The matching crimson cloak around his small shoulders was damp with rain, turning it a deep burgundy.

Splotches of mud were spattered at the hem of his cloak, presumedly from trying to escape Antonin upon his arrival.

Tom walked over to the boy, kneeling down next to the mattress to get a better look. Placing his fingers on the boy’s shoulder, he turned him over.

Tom went completely still, his hand frozen on the boy’s shoulder.

Several strands of his raven hair were plastered to his cheeks and forehead, framing a face so lovely, Tom had to commit it to memory.

The boy’s olive skin stood out against the red of his robes, his dark hair an unruly, rain-sodden mess atop his head.

His nose was small, tinges of pink staining the tanned skin of his cheeks. His long dark lashes twitched against his skin in sleep, his full lips parted as he panted.

An angry red had bloomed under his jaw, looking as if someone had struck him.

Tom clenched his jaw, inexplicably _irritated_ that his property had been harmed on the way here.

He would keep in mind to rectify Antonin’s chosen corporal punishment with his own _creative_ punishment when he saw him again.

Tom smelled something beneath the cloying scent of the boy’s natural pheromones. He leaned down, taking the boy’s thin, listless wrist in his hand and raising it.

He scented the back of the boy’s wrist, picking up unique scents beneath his natural Omega pheromones.

Fresh rain fall, damp earth, and the electric smell of young magic simmering beneath. The boy’s inherent magic smelled unused and untrained, bordering on wild but organic all the same.

Magic. A gift that was like a knife, a serrated blade with a gilded handle. It could be used to heal or destroy, a heavy burden to bear.

Ancient and revered to their kind.

A gift that was bestowed on those whom were _lesser_.

Muggle-borns and half-bloods.

They never wielded the knife of magic by the gilded handle, no. They wielded their magic by the serrated blade, their unworthy blood dripping down from how greedily they clutched at something only meant for those pure of blood. Their blood stained the magic of the world, diluting it and turning it into something Tom abhorred.

Tom’s role as Minister would rectify the mistakes of those who had come before him. He would make the Wizarding World see. He would make them all see the error of their accepting ways.

He tilted his head, studying the boy’s delicate features with detached interest.

Pure bloodline or not, repressing one’s magic could have disastrous side effects later on in life.

It almost made Tom pity the wasted potential that laid in front of him in the form of a frail teenage boy.

To never be able to use one’s own natural-born magic?

It would be like stifling the soul.

Tom scoffed.

It would be like gelding himself, refusing to use the only part of himself that had aided in amassing his power and followers in the first place.

 _Pity_.

An emotion Tom hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He shook off his dark musings, returning his focus to the boy’s wrist he still held.

Tom let his lips brush against the boy’s limp wrist, wanting to trace the barely visible veins beneath with his tongue. He yearned to see if he could _taste_ the boy’s untamed magic.

Would it taste of him? Like rain and earth? 

He could only speculate. Using his tongue would be far too intimate for Tom’s liking.

This Omega was for breeding, not savoring.

He released the boy’s wrist and watched as it flopped lifelessly to the mattress. He raised his hand once more and absentmindedly traced the boy’s lower lip with one finger.

It seemed he couldn’t stop himself from touching.

When the boy gave a restless moan, Tom pulled his hand away, curling his fingers into a fist against his thigh.

He was surprised to find him _wanting_ to touch the boy again.

Sexual desire was something Tom found distasteful. Whenever he did fulfill his carnal cravings, it wasn’t without distaste afterwards on his part. He had found that no one was his equal, in magic or as a mate. 

Everyone was beneath him.

But staring down at the small Omega, Tom felt his prick thickening. Just the sight of the innocent, unaware boy was making him hard.

He smirked.

Oh, yes. This boy would do just fine for his intended purposes.

The boy moaned softly, sliding one of his muddied boots up the mattress, dirtying the white sheets.

Just as Tom anticipated _dirtying_ his pure Omega.

Claiming him. _Marking_ him.

Tom could see the outline of the boy’s small, flaccid cock through his thin dark trousers under his rain-dampened red robes, making him want to touch again.

His eyes slid back up the boy’s body, to the collar encircling his neck.

The boy’s collar was combined iron and copper, thin and flush against his slender throat, sending a possessive thrill through Tom. It was magically malleable, adjusting to the wearer’s throat. The counteractive magic infused in the metal alloy turned it a dark green, shimmering under the harsh light of the recessed lighting above.

A small serpent was etched into the metal, proclaiming ownership. It was Tom’s insignia and it would let any wandering eye know to whom the Omega _belonged_.

The collar would prevent the boy from using his magic, but from what Antonin had told him, the boy didn’t even _know_ how to use his magic.   
  
The boy was completely defenseless.

A curl of anticipation unfurled within him, something he usually only felt before killing someone. 

The boy was _his_.

Tom’s smirk widened to a cruel grin.

Maybe he would never let the boy out of this room. Maybe he would keep him down here, rutting him during each of his heats until he was swollen with his pups each year.

He wanted many heirs and this boy was in no position to deny him. If he did, Tom would simply threaten those he loved.

Perhaps he would kill one of the Muggles who raised him if became disobedient. Presenting the boy with a corpse of his loved one would certainly persuade him to behave.

Tom couldn’t wait for all the fun he had planned for his vulnerable Omega.

Fear was something he was practiced at, something he could instill in anyone who displeased him.

Tom didn’t want to wait. He raised his hand and let it hover over the boy’s face, rousing him with a spell.

The boy’s eyes popped open, bloodshot and wide.

They were the most vivid green Tom had ever beheld.

He was once again, frozen in place as he studied his Omega, searching for any flicker of fear in those bewitching eyes that he often found in the gazes of others when they looked upon him.

He found none, only surprise.

The absence of fear in his Omega’s green gaze ... _excited_ him.

It had been quite a long time since someone had made eye contact with him so brazenly without fear of rebuke. There was not an _ounce_ of fear evident in those lambent green depths.

Not even Bellatrix dared question any of his orders. He often felt adrift in a sea of subservient imbeciles who gobbled up any crumb of his attention if he deigned to direct it.

He had grown so _bored_ of those surrounding him, only wanting to appease him and not incur his cruelty.

Perhaps this little Omega would not submit without a fight.

It only made his cock twitch at the prospect.

”Hello, little one,” Tom whispered.

Those emerald eyes narrowed to slits, his lush lips clamping shut.

And then, the boy lunged.


	2. Requiem for Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀 Enjoy!

Harry lunged at the tall man looming over him.

Before his hands could even make contact with the man’s expensive looking jacket, he was thrown backwards by an unseen force.

“Such spirit,” the man drawled, rising to his full height.

Harry was propelled backwards, slamming into the wall behind him. A weak whine left his throat as gradual pressure held him immobile.

“I didn’t expect for our first meeting to go like this. It looks as if I’ll have to train your manners as well as your body.”

“W-what?” Harry spluttered, the pressure on chest making it difficult for him to speak. He reached up, pressing his shaking fingers to his throat where he felt an unfamiliar weight around his neck. His fingertips met cool metal.

Was that…a _collar_?

 _The bastard had collared him_!

The man stepped forward, smoothly avoiding the mattress Harry had been unconscious on only moments before.

When the man came closer, it gave Harry a chance to study him.

The man’s dark hair had a slight wave to it, the color so deep black, it appeared bluish under the artificial lighting of the room. There were a few strands of silver interspersed throughout his hair, but other than that, the man appeared to be in his late thirties.

He had regal features, a sharp nose and prominent cheekbones beneath his pale skin. When Harry met his eyes, he flinched.

The man’s narrowed eyes were so black, Harry couldn’t discern the pupil from the iris. Something shifted in those inky depths as they both studied each other in silence, reminding him of a snake undulating beneath a slick surface of oil.

It unnerved him, the intensity of that black gaze.

“Your _body_ , dove. It belongs to me now.”

Harry scoffed, or at least, he tried to while being held immobile under crushing pressure.

“I-I don’t belong to anyone,” he choked out.

The man smiled, showcasing even, white teeth. Even though the man was handsome, Harry couldn’t help but feel as if his attractive appearance was only a guise. Something to deter onlookers so they couldn’t see the sinister agenda lurking beneath.

But Harry was no fool.

He had lived with monsters masquerading as _people_ his entire life. He knew that people could put on an act to appear normal, but behind closed doors, their true colors were revealed.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. As of yesterday, you are now my _property_ to do with as I please.”

Harry tried kicking away from the wall, but the insufferable, heavy robes he’d been dressed in hindered his range of motion. That, and the gradual pressure crushing him to the hard wall at his back.

He was snared.

“Who are you and what do you _want_ with me?!” he shouted.

He could remember taking out the rubbish that morning as his Aunt Petunia had ordered, and after that…

Nothing.

Not until he had woken in a cold, dark room along with several other frightened looking young people. They had all been dressed in the same crimson uniform, almost all of their skin covered by the heavy material. Some of them had sported various bruises and cuts, their hair mussed from what looked like a struggle.

One particular girl had been cowering in the corner, her nose busted and openly bleeding. Her dark eyes had been blank, dead. Dried blood had matted her dull curls, her short nails torn and dirtied.

“ _They’re never going to let us go_ ,” she had whispered, rocking back and forth.

The memory made Harry break out a cold sweat, his teeth clenching as the strange man continued to stare at him with detached curiosity of a predator eyeing its next potential prey.

“My real name is of no consequence to you, dove. You’ll only address me ‘sir’ or ‘master.’ If you fail to address me by either of those, you will be punished. If you fail to obey any of my commands, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

Harry felt hysterical laughter bubble up in throat, the harsh reality of his current situation closing in on him with smothering quickness.

 _Was he serious_?

It seemed as if he had escaped one terrible place to only be forcibly dropped into another.

“I’d rather die, no offense,” he said hoarsely, trying to edge to the side in an effort to escape whatever was holding him to the wall.

The skin next to the man’s full lips twitched and that was the only warning Harry had before he was shot forward, landing face down on the mattress in the middle of the room.

The air was knocked from his lungs from the force of landing so abruptly, a startled, choked gasp escaping him.

The man was suddenly on top of him, his knee digging into the small of his back. Strong fingers gripped the back of his throat, digging into his skin.

An involuntary shiver overtook him when he felt lips brush against the shell of his ear as the weight of the man’s knee pinned him to the mattress.

“You’d rather… _die_ ,” he murmured, a hint of playfulness in his deep voice. “Then by all means, dove, _die_.”

Suddenly, pain like Harry had never known enveloped his entire body. It was like knives pressing against his skin from the _inside_ , his blood ratcheting up several degrees until he felt as if he were boiling alive.

A high-pitched cry tore from his throat, tears springing to his eyes and spilling over as the pain worsened to an unbearable degree.

Spurred on by the excruciating pain radiating throughout his entire body, Harry drew upon the buried well inside of himself. He only used his secret abilities when he was either scared or angry, ordered by his aunt and uncle to never use it in anyone’s presence.

He felt his hidden power gathering within him, foreign but strangely familiar at the same time. When he tried to direct it outward, he felt it slam against an invisible barrier. The collar around his neck grew unbearably hot against his skin, making him yelp in surprise, his attempt at using his untrained power dissipating.

The cruel man pinning him down laughed, infuriating Harry. “You won’t be able to use your magic anymore, boy. Not while you belong to me.”

 _Magic_?

Like a shot, the pain was back, even worse than before. He pressed his sweaty forehead to the mattress and released a hoarse groan, his eyes screwing shut.

“Still want to die, dove, or are you done flapping those _useless_ wings of yours?” the man hissed into his ear.

“P-please!” Harry cried out. “Just make it _stop_!”

How was he _doing_ that?

Slowly, the pain abated until it was no more.

Harry let out a relieved, gasping exhalation. When he finally regained a normal breathing rhythm, he suddenly became aware of how closely the man was pressed against him from behind.

His aunt had always provided him with suppressants to stave off the worst of his heat symptoms and the only other Alpha he’d been in close proximity with was his uncle, but even his pheromones weren’t as strong as the man holding him down.

If his heat became too overpowering, Petunia would lock him in the cupboard under the stairs. She would always berate him, calling his inability to suppress his Omega traits ‘disgusting.’

It had made Harry curse his very existence as an Omega and at that very moment, he thought that maybe she was right.

If he weren’t an Omega, would he even be _in_ this cursed situation?

Against his will, his body naturally responded to the man’s dominant presence.

He felt himself become instinctively pliant, his stomach tightening and flooding with heat as the man’s musky pheromones were pumped into the air of the small room, the scent assaulting him from all angles.

To his utter horror, he released a small whimper.

“That’s right,” the man purred. “Your body already knows who owns it.”

Harry let out a strained chuckle. “My body doesn’t belong to anyone but _me_.”

“Does it?” the man said wryly.

Without warning, the man roughly rucked up the back of Harry’s robes, ripping down his trousers and underwear in one harsh yank. He pulled them off completely, leaving him naked below the waist, his black boots still on his feet.

Cool air met his exposed skin, making him flush.

“W-what are you doing?” Harry stammered, trying to crawl forward, but only succeeding in exposing more of himself to the man holding him down.

The man grabbed one side of his hips with a long-fingered hand, still holding him down with his other hand on the small of his back. He spread Harry’s cleft, his thumb pressing down on his hole. On reflex, he tried throw back his elbow in an attempt to get the man off.

When his elbow thudded against the man’s strong jaw, a curse flew from his mouth, making Harry glower with satisfaction.

It was short lived.

The man jerked Harry up and backhanded him across the jaw, right across the spot where the other man who had kidnapped him had struck him earlier.

He was dropped back down, white hot pain exploding in the spot where he struck him. He could feel a dribble of hot blood sluice down his lower lip, splashing onto the white sheets below. He let out a choked sob, stilling beneath the man.

The cruel man seized Harry’s jaw in a punishing grip from behind, his fingers stretching up to slide across his lip and smear the blood.

“I don’t need to use my magic to get you to do what I want, _pet_ ,” he hissed into his ear from behind. “But if you’re _good_ …”

The man released his jaw and when Harry felt two fingers prod his entrance from behind, mortification and terror washed over him. The fingers slowly spearing him were wet.

With his own blood.

“You should see yourself,” the man grated. “Your tight little hole sucking my fingers in and lubricated by your own reticence. It’s really quite beautiful, dove.”

“P-please, _stop_ ,” Harry murmured weakly, horrified to feel his own slick easing the slide of the man’s fingers.

 _No one_ had ever touched him like this and it revolted him, a sick thrum of excitement accompanying that revulsion as the man’s fingers stroked him from the inside.

His own _body_ was betraying him.

“Address me correctly and I will.”

The fingers inside of him twisted, pressing against a spot inside of Harry that had his hips arching up from the mattress. His hard, leaking cock dragged across the sheets beneath him, adding to the tortuous sensations overwhelming his traitorous body.

Though his mind recoiled at the thought of the man giving him this perverse pleasure, his body had no qualms about responding.

“ _N-no_ ,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, trying to hold onto his last remnants of self-control even though he was quickly unraveling under the man’s skilled touch.

“No? Then we continue,” the man drawled, making Harry loathe him even more.

The two fingers inside of him delved deeper, rubbing against that euphoric spot until Harry was writhing and keening on the sheets, the sounds emitting from his throat almost animalistic in nature.

Slick was pouring from his hole now, sliding down his bare inner thighs and providing the man’s pistoning fingers with obscene squelching noises.

Rutting his cock against the mattress beneath him wasn’t enough.

He needed—needed—

The man relinquished his fingers from Harry’s hole and grabbed him by the hips, flipping him over on the mattress.

When Harry dazedly gazed up at him, his lips parted in surprise.

His earlier attempt at trying to injure him had succeeded. A small trail of blood had trickled from the man’s busted lower lip. He smiled at Harry; his white teeth now stained crimson. His dark hair had become mussed in the struggle, his black gaze smoldering as he stared down at Harry.

He looked like a refined monster, a handsome psychopath.

“Go on,” he said. “Say it and I’ll finish you.”

Harry shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “I won’t say it. I don’t belong to you!”

What looked like irritation flickered across the man’s features, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

”I’ll show you how wrong you are.”

The man dragged Harry back towards him on the mattress, his thighs splayed overtop the man’s lap. The man pushed up his robes past his nipples, baring him. He felt his cheeks redden, glancing down his body.

His nipples were blood-red, jutting lewdly because of his reluctant arousal. His prick was hard against his abdomen, pre-cum sheening on the crown. His inner thighs were shiny with leaked slick.

He looked like a slut, not an unwilling captive.

As if the man could read his thoughts, he smirked.

”Say it for me, pet,” he cooed, grabbing Harry’s cock and pressing the fingers of his other hand back to his wet hole. 

Harry vehemently shook his head, screwing his eyes shut as the man began to wank him, his fingers sinking back into him with no resistance.   
  
“Just give in and I’ll make you feel so good, pet.”

When the man leaned down and licked some of the blood from Harry’s lips, he whined softly. His Omega instincts kicked in, wanting to please the Alpha above him.

_Submit. Mate. Breed._

There was something else between them, something under the instincts and pheromones.

It felt like when he used his secret abilities, but now it held a lustful, bliss-like edge. The feeling was also being _projected_ , intermingling between them and making his own pleasure intensify to a addictive degree.

”I-I don’t understand what’s happening,” Harry whined, spreading his legs even further as the Alpha’s erection pressed into his lower back.

”So _innocent_ ,” the man murmured, his gaze rapt on Harry’s prick as he wanked him. 

When the man added a third finger to his loosened hole, Harry threw back his head and moaned.

Harry fisted the sheets on either side of his head, panting loudly as he felt his impending climax teeter on the brink within him.

” _Please_ ,” he begged hoarsely.

”Then submit,” the man ordered. “Beg me for it.”

Harry gritted his teeth as the man’s hand slowed on his prick, his fingers stilling in his hole.

He tasted his own blood in his mouth, but the unique flavor of the man’s tongue against his lips had left his own mark. The tang of his unique blood and his heady scent.

It felt proprietary. Like he was already _owned_.

He just wanted the whole thing to be over with. He wanted the man to leave him alone. He wanted him _gone_.

”Please,” Harry said weakly, “m-make me come, Master.”

The words tasted like ashes in his mouth, choking him on the way out.

Making him feel dirty. Used. Owned.

”Such a good boy,” the man purred, his fingers continuing their ministrations while his hand tightened and sped up on Harry’s cock. “Come for me.”

Obeying the man’s order, Harry detonated. He came with a shout, his cum shooting from his prick and landing on his chest and neck. His hole clenched around the man’s fingers, his orgasm making him undulate desperately.

After the waves of pleasure slowly diminished, coldness swept over him.

His cooling cum felt sticky on his stomach, his cock quickly softening. The man pulled away and smoothly stood, straightening his jacket with an air of indifference.

He wiped the dried blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and said, ”That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His taunting words were like a bucket of ice water over Harry’s head.

”Fuck you!” Harry cried out before sitting up to spit on the man’s expensive looking shoes.

The room went eerily quiet, the hair on Harry’s nape standing on end. 

Before Harry could retract his harsh words, the man slapped him across the face, making him fall backwards on the mattress from the force of the blow.

The man was overtop him in a millisecond, spreading Harry’s thighs with one of his strong hands.

”You’re going to prove difficult to train, but do not fret, I have the time and patience, _pet_.”

Tears finally slipped down Harry’s cheeks, the reality of his situation blanketing him in a heavy wave of misery and pain.

The man leaned down and spit on Harry’s loosened hole, making flinch and whimper.

He pressed his lips to Harry’s ear and whispered, “Next time you do that, I’ll make you lick it off my shoes. With an audience. Naked.”

Harry turned his face away, curling into the fetal position on the mattress.

”Just go away,” he whispered hoarsely, not wanting to be in the terrible Alpha’s presence a second longer.

There was a beat of silence before he heard the man’s receding footsteps behind him. The man whispered something in an unknown, whispery language. The lights in the room dimmed to almost blackness.

The sound of the heavy door opening made Harry stiffen.

”I’ll send one of the house-elves down to tend to you.”

That was all he said before the door shut, locking him in the darkened silence of his prison.

Although his emotions and mind were in turmoil, one thought stood out.

He had understood what the man had said to open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know Harry acquired the ability to speak Parseltongue by Voldemort killing his parents, but I’m putting my own spin on this AU.🖤)


End file.
